


It's Chemistry! With Food!

by TheGreatSporkWielder



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, attempts at cooking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-15
Updated: 2012-07-15
Packaged: 2017-11-09 23:54:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/459919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatSporkWielder/pseuds/TheGreatSporkWielder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For all that he was a science genius who could splice atoms with the best of them, Bruce was a terrible cook.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Chemistry! With Food!

For all that he was a science genius who could splice atoms with the best of them, Bruce was a _terrible_ cook.

 

Soon after he and Darcy had started dating, Bruce had tried to serve her breakfast in bed. When he’d been with Betty, _she’d_ served _him_ breakfast in bed a few times, but Darcy was the sort of person for whom Pop Tarts were considered a perfectly acceptable breakfast and, as much as he cared for her, Bruce wasn’t about to choke down all that processed sugar just to make her happy. Too much sugar made the Other Guy hyper, and a hyper Other Guy was an Other Guy who thought that grabbing Thor by the cape and cheerfully twirling him around like some kind of ribbon dancer was a Good Idea.

 

So Bruce had made his way to the kitchen intent on making her an omelet.

 

He’d burnt the eggs so badly he triggered the Tower’s sprinkler system. Darcy hadn’t exactly appreciated being woken up by freezing cold water being vigorously blasted on her, but she’d found the image of him looking like a drowned cat and frantically scraping egg into the trash can funny enough to forgive him for the whole thing.

 

He’d then tried his hand at baking. He figured cooking was more eyeballing and _eh-just-dump-some-in-what-the-hell_ and _let’s-try-this-and-see-how-it-works-this-is-gonna-go-awesome_ ( _Tony_ would probably be good at cooking), but baking…baking was much more precise. It was chemistry, right? Bruce could do chemistry. Bruce was _good_ at chemistry. So, with the confidence of a man who knew his Maillard reactions, he tried baking a cake for Darcy’s birthday.

 

Luckily, she hadn’t been in their rooms when the sprinklers went off that time, and Bruce had threatened, over the wail of the fire alarm, to make JARVIS talk like Twilight Sparkle on helium if he told anybody exactly _how_ bits of red velvet cake batter ended up on the ten-foot high vaulted ceiling or why the scorch marks reached the window on the far side of the kitchen.

 

On the plus side, he discovered where Tony had hidden the fire extinguisher.

 

Okay, so maybe Bruce and _kitchens_ just didn’t mix well; he did _just fine_ when doing chemical reactions in the lab. So Bruce decided he’d try cooking something over the flame of a Bunsen burner. It’s _chemistry,_ not _baking,_ he told himself.

 

Yes. Chemistry.

 

With food.

 

This was going to go _great._

 

Even the threat of talking like a tripped-out Pony for the rest of his days hadn’t stopped JARVIS from telling Tony about _this_ particular debacle after Bruce triggered the sprinklers _yet again_ , and Tony had laughed so hard at Bruce’s sad attempt at Jell-O that he cried, and Bruce seriously contemplated smashing him into the floor of the lab, Loki-style.

 

“Oh, man, Bruce,” Tony had gasped after finally catching his breath, reaching over to lift the still-smoldering bowl from the table, “Jell-O? Who _explodes_ Jell-O? I didn’t even know that was _possible._ ”

 

Bruce said nothing, just pursed his lips as his hair fell, sopping, into his eyes and condensation fogged up his glasses.

 

“And why the hell are you using a Bunsen burner to make Jell-O, anyway?”

 

“He’s using the burner because his oven and stove are out of commission, sir,” JARVIS said helpfully.

 

“You’re just zero for three, aren’t you, buddy?” asked Tony, slapping Bruce on the shoulder. “So you’re the one who’s been setting off the sprinklers, lately. And I do have a chef, you know. Who knows how to make Jell-O.”

 

Bruce rolled his eyes and tugged his glasses off, wiping them on a miraculously dry corner of his shirt. “Of _course_ I know that, but it’s not quite the same to say, ‘Here, Darcy, I had the chef make an omelet for you.’ Haven’t you ever served a woman breakfast in bed before?”

 

Tony just smirked. “Only after room service delivered it.”

 

Bruce heaved an annoyed sigh and slid his glasses back on. “You’re no help at all,” he muttered as he brushed his wet curls away from his forehead.

 

“Okay, then,” said Tony. “Obviously, the whole ‘Show How Manly I Am By Wearing A Frilly Apron’ routine isn’t working out so well for you.”

 

“But I’m not wearing a frilly apron,” Bruce protested.

 

“Aha! Maybe _that’s_ your problem,” suggested Tony.

 

“If you can’t say anything helpful, just go away,” said Bruce, exasperated.

 

“Hey, I’m _trying_ to be helpful,” said Tony. “Look, why don’t you just, I don’t know, do flowers or chocolates or whatever, like a normal, _sane_ guy who’s whipped by his ladylove?”

 

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “She’s got allergies, so flowers are out, and she once told me that any boyfriend who gave her chocolates was obviously trying to fatten her up so he could dump her for, and I quote, ‘a skinny little whore with no boobs and a tramp stamp of a butterfly.’”

 

“I’ve got a feeling there’s a story behind that,” said Tony.

 

“I haven’t asked,” said Bruce. “I just don’t buy her chocolate.”

 

“Hmmm,” said Tony. “Well, I’m going to have to ban any further culinary efforts before you actually succeed in your attempts to burn down the Tower.”

 

Bruce sighed and slumped onto a nearby stool.

 

“Aw, don’t let it get you down,” Tony said cheerfully, wrapping a consoling arm around Bruce’s bowed shoulders. “Maybe you can, I don’t know, discover a new element and name it after her or something.”

 

“Really,” said Bruce, deadpan. “That’s your suggestion?”

 

“What?” said Tony. “Darcynium. That would be _awesome._ Darcy likes the geeky stuff; you’d _totally_ get laid.”

 

“Out,” said Bruce. “Now.”

 

“Fine, Grumpy,” said Tony. “But _no more cooking.”_

 

Once Tony had shut the door behind him, Bruce cleaned up the mess he’d made. At least the sprinklers had washed all the Jell-O from the walls, so all Bruce had to do was set the bowl to soak before he shuffled back to the rooms he shared with Darcy.

 

“Hey, gorgeous,” Darcy greeted from the couch as he walked in. Her eyebrows shot up as she took in his drenched clothing and the puddle forming on the floor. “Did Tony set off the sprinklers again?”

 

“Uh, no,” he admitted. “I did.”

 

“You?” she asked, her forehead wrinkling. “Since when do you blow stuff up?”

 

“Since I tried my hand at cooking,” he said, and braced himself for her laughter.

 

But she didn’t laugh. Instead, her face softened into a warm smile and she stood and walked over to where he hovered just inside the doorway. “You were trying to cook again?” she asked. “For me?”

 

He shrugged sheepishly. “I didn’t have a lot of other ideas,” he said. “But I’ll have to think of something; I’ve set off the sprinklers three times.”

 

“That,” she said slowly as she wrapped her arms around his neck and slid her fingers through his still soaked hair, “is the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

 

He blinked. “Really? But…I haven’t done anything.”

 

“You know how many boyfriends have cooked for me, Bruce? One. And I use the term ‘cook’ loosely, because his idea of cooking was heating up a burrito in the microwave. You, however, almost caught _Stark_ _Tower_ on _fire_ for me. _Three times.”_

“And…that’s romantic?”

 

“Yes,” she said firmly as she pulled his head down to hers and pressed their foreheads together, heedless of the water dripping from his hair onto her skin. “But you should probably find a new romantic gesture, if only because I want to be able to use our kitchen again. JARVIS locked it until you agree not to use it unsupervised.”

 

"Agreed," he replied, wrapping his arms around her. "As long as you help me out of these wet clothes."

 

"I think I can manage that." 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, y'all. I have a tumblr now! Feel free to follow me, if you like. I'm **thegreatsporkwielder.tumblr.com**


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